Empty and Lonely
have been watching my every
move the past ten years.
I've seen their childish
figures playing in the park,
and I have pushed them
on their swings, sooooooooo high;
given them summer rides to
the zoo, the cities.
I've heard their giggles,
the squeals of delight landing
inside my eardrums
with all the weight of
butterfly scales and holes dug
in sand at low tide.
Empty and Lonely,
with their wisdom and driveways...
land to call their own,
have matured since then.
I had them to tea, and they
said, "This is the day
for you to sit on
the swing in our wiiiiiiide backyard."
They'll push me this time.
How could I refuse
opportunity like that?
Clear the calendar.
I've been invited
to one of their grand affairs.
Don't ask what I'll wear.
